The Big Six and the Naked Finger

Subtitled: Jammin' to Radio T-bone and Relying on Herbs to Calm Me Down

Hello, Internet! How are you? Me, I'm just fine. Wait, lemme check. Yep, I'm still OK.

On Sunday, the Petite Filet and I celebrated six years of marriage. It's been mostly good, although the past few months have been a bum-da-bummer because of her health issues. We'll get over it and live happily once again, I have no doubts.

On a related note, during which I'll make a short story long, I was putting some meat in the crockpot the other day and took off my wedding band so as not to get it meaty. I stuck it on the window sill and sort of forgot it. In my haste to get ready for work the next day and out the door at a reasonable hour, I left it there. I was astutely conscious that my wedding ring was not on my finger all freakin' day long. The ring is a mere symbol, for sure, but it's also a physical reminder of the unbroken commitment to a spouse. I didn't run rampant among the lillies looking for another mate – my commitment runs deeper than that. But, if there's a moral to the story: married people, wear your rings. If they don't fit anymore because you're losing the battle of the bulge, by all means, have the thing resized. Your marriage will thank me later.

Anniversaries, of course, are also about gifts. Even though this one isn't an even-number-type-of-thing, we exchanged some good presents. I bought the PF a silver charm bracelet and, having run out of money, promised additional charms at random times during the coming year. She bought me a 1GB iPod Shuffle, and it is super cool. Loading it up with music I enjoy gives me the chance to tune in to Radio T-bone any time I want. No commercials. No annoying DJs. Just sweet sweet tunes. I highly recommend one. I play mine in my car; I plug it into the cassette deck with the adapter from my portable CD player. Sidenote: play your stuff at random. It's exciting!

A facet of my personality that you, not ever having met me, may not realize is that I'm usually a calm and sort of collected soul. That's why one of my fellow co-workers was a little surprised when I slammed the phone down this morning. Don't know what my deal is. She said, "If you were female, I'd have a guess." I answered, "I don't know what it is. The mortgage isn't even due yet." I raided the box of fancy Starbucks teas to find the variety that promises "Calm" with a capital ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Don't know if it's the pyschological/placebo effect of the wrapper saying it will calm me down or what, but despite the odor of grass clippings wafting from my mug, I am much calmer now. Herbs, especially legal ones, gotta love 'em.

What's up with you?